The Holding Cell
by faithindestiny
Summary: Who knows who you are going to meet in a holding cell? Bella Swan does not expect to meet a Winchester there. Or find a partner and friend in him. The world is about to go up in flames, but one friendship won't affect it too much. Will it? AU Story is better than the summary. View profile.
1. The Meeting

A/N: This is set before Supernatural begins when Dean is hunting on his own so around 2003/2004 (Cassie has recently dumped him) and Eclipse and Breaking Dawn never happened. This Bella/Dean

"Credit card fraud, first degree murder, kidnapping, identity fraud, Breaking and entering on five different properties, car theft..." And the list goes on and on from the Chief of police's mouth. I notice his name tag reads Tom. It suits him, a boring name for a boring person. He doesn't seem to understand that I already know what crimes I've committed, I mean, I was there. I roll my eyes, I've been listening to this list for two minutes already and he hasn't really made a dent in the known crimes I've done, let alone the unknown. Now, time to put us both out of the misery of listening to this.

"Blah, blah, blah... Ok I did a lot of bad stuff, just get onto what you're going to do with me." This is said with a casual smirk on my face. The rage was now bubbling up in the already irritated Tom. His face was going a bright purple with blue veins pulsing out of the skin in his forehead. It sorta reminds me of my Dad while he was angry... Ahhh, Good times. I smile to myself.

He use to get so worked up because I would sneak out to do exactly what he told me not to do; follow in his footsteps. This was mostly of course pre-Edward but sometimes while Edward was away I would go and find something nasty to hunt. Unfortunately Dad would usually catch me fixing up my injuries and help patch me up. This would then be followed by a long lecture detailing exactly why being a hunter is so horrible. The clumsiness i had in Forks was an over exaggeration to cover up my variety of injuries. It was perfect because no one ever had questioned the scars, broken bones and bruises; everyone just assumed I had fallen again. If they knew I got all my injuries fighting the supernatural, most would be shell shocked.

"You'll be kept here until we can transport you to the local jail, where I'm sure you'll be a resident for a very long time." The shackles around my wrists pinning my arms to the steel table are released only to be immediately replaced with a more portable pair. I can already tell I would have a ring of purple tomorrow where the metal touched the skin. Escorted by two officers, we head down a series of corridors before coming to the cells.

Someone was already in the holding cell they are leading me to. They are pacing along the left hand side of the cell. Judging by the height of around 6 foot and the shoulder width, it was definitely a male. There is an aura of danger surrounding the man like a fog. He's trouble. I mentally note to keep an eye on him. His stride is confident and cocky, not menacing and predatory like some of the criminals I have encountered. He seemed perfectly at ease in the cell, which would in similar circumstances put my guard up but unlike others with the same ease in this environment, he seemed like a person that could look comfortable just about anywhere. The cell door is unlocked with a crack and the man turned his face our way, a cheeky grin on his lips. Now I can see his face properly, I can see he's in his early twenties but his face like mine shows age and heart break beyond our years. His green eyes are an image of my own; steely but filled with pain. This doesn't detract from his attractive features, instead increasing the intensity and mystery in his aura.

"What's a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?" He says as the officers leave. His grin had turned sleazier.

"Oh you know the usual; murder, kidnapping, theft," I list them off on my fingers, a small smile threatened to break my serious expression, "I was caught last night playing with my latest victim. She shouldn't have slept with my toy boy, the slut. Well, at least I could warn all the other girls by carving the word into her pretty little face." During the speech, I make my expression become more psychotic. By the end, he his grin had dropped into a blank face. He starts backing away from me cautiously like I'm a wild, vicious animal and into a subtle defensive stance. "Sadly, the cops caught me before I could watch her blood gush out her neck and the life drain out of her eyes with every drop." I hold the expression for a few more seconds before bursting out laughing. The guy tensed up more making me laugh harder. I gasped for breath trying to get a hold of myself, "Sorry," gasp," couldn't help myself." I walked up to him, a friendly smile on my face, "Hi, I'm Bella."

The guy realised the previous speech was an act and though still tense returned my smile.

"Dean. Dean Winchester."

"So Dean, what are you doing in this cell?" What am I dealing with?

"I got caught by the police here while breaking into one of the houses on Pearson Rd." That's odd. I wonder...

"Really, do you mean the abandoned house where that boy was found dead?"

"Uh, yeah." He scratched his neck. He was trying to get into the victim's house. He could be involved in the slaughter. "I wanted to get a closer look at the murder scene. I mean, it's interesting," Dean finished. I reached into my pocket for the little container of holy water I kept on me. I splash a little on my hand before "accidentally" brushing my hand against the skin of his hand. I watch the spot carefully out of the corner of my eye. No burning. Not a demon then. I try this again with my silver bracelet and rock salt. Negative results so Dean is human.

"Yeah, I know. I was caught trespassing on that property as well. I got interested in that area after I heard about the good hunting in this town." This hint is to see if he's one of us. There isn't any good animal hunting anywhere near here but that boy's murder has ghost written all over it. This man could certainly be one of us with the faded scars against his skin and checking out the murder scene, not to mention the last name. I think I may have come across a relative of the infamous John Winchester. I look up at him; he face faintly reflects his surprise but mostly his recognition.

"I heard about the hunting in this town as well and came to investigate. How long have you been hunting?"

"Most of my life; my father became passionate about it after his sister was killed. He taught me."

Obsessed was a better word. Only my birth was enough to get him to tone down the hours he would spend hunting. After Mum left him because of his frequent and unexplained absence, he stopped hunting while detesting it for ruining his marriage. The single reason he trained me was because he want me to be able to protect myself. Unfortunately for him, I decided I enjoyed hunting so did it as often as I could.

"Hunting was a... release for my Dad as well after my mother's death."

"You by yourself?" I question, wanting to see if he is in the same boat as me. I have been alone for a long time and this job gets really lonely when going alone. I wouldn't mind a partner but I never got one because I wouldn't want them to have to deal with me. It would be unfair to them with the nightmares and general bitchiness that come with the package that is me. Dean, though, seems to have some issues himself.

"At the moment." He look as deserted as I feel. I start searching through my hair.

"So am I. We both have a ghost to get rid of and two of us will lessen our chances of dying. If we click during this hunt, want some company?" My fingers finally clasped around the thing I was digging through my ponytail for.

"I am irresistible," He says it like he's stating a fact; "A five minute conversation and your already wanting spend months living with me." His cocky smile is back in place. I snort not acting at all lady like, "Yeah right, it's not like there is much of a choice of company here. So congratulations Dean, are able to, somehow, get me to want to stay in your company in my state of extreme loneliness."

"I still think if there were hunters here you would still pick me to spend your precious time with. I mean, look at me; I'm adorable...and hungry. Food isn't great here and I want pie." This is highlighted by his stomach gurgling, "So how are we getting out of here because I'm still thinking of a plan."

"Be careful Dean anymore complements to yourself and you might not be able to fit your head through the door way." I then give him a condescending look,

"Being a woman, means constantly having something on you to pick locks with."

With that I unfurled my fingers, revealing the bobby pin resting in my hand. A smirk snuck onto his face to match mine. I slipped my arm through the bars and put the bobby pin into the lock. After twisting and turning for a minute, the door opened with a creak.

"This way." I darted down the hallway leading to the exit, Dean hot on my heels. We kept on running when the door on the left opened causing me to hit my head and fall backwards. Two officers walked out of the open door, only for Dean to punch one in the jaw. The officer hit the ground hard and stayed there. Dean then started throwing punches at the other, who surprisingly was giving a good as he was getting. Blood was sprayed along the ground from the officer's obviously broken nose. Dean has a steady stream of blood trickling down his chin from his lip and both have bruises scattered along their faces. The fight is taking too long and creating too much noise so I step in, hitting the officer in the back of the neck. He hits his friend as a dead weight. Dean looks at me appreciative smile on his lips. I nod then grab his hand leading him out of the station. We run until the station is out of sight. He then pulls me to a stop.

"My baby is this way, Beautiful." Dean points in the direction of Pearson Rd. We slip into an easy walk side by side, our hands stay clasped together dangling loosely in-between us.

"We worked well together then," I muse. It was really more interesting already; working with others, or maybe it was just Dean. It has been a while since I have talked to someone in my self-imposed isolation excluding interrogating people associated with the victims. It feels nice to have someone beside you. I want to keep the comfort and I think Dean will be the perfect for the job. We have already got on quite well and he's lovable; not that I would ever admit that in front of him. Call it what you want but something tells me to keep Dean close; that he's going to be very important to me. Decision made, I comment, "We have ghost to hunt. Then, we have to choose a new hunt."

_Dean, you're going to have to put up with me for a while cause I'm not leaving._ I smile at the thought feeling the warmth of him beside me. I shake my head softly. _No, not anytime soon._

A/N: Ok, this is a little one shot I did in my spare time, but I was considering making it into more. That depends on the reaction to this though. Please read and review.


	2. The Ghost Problem Solved

AN Hey people! I am making this a full story. I hope everybody likes this chapter. Thanks to ccgnme for being the reviewer on my story. I don't own Supernatural (unfortunately because it's awesome), Twilight (Thank God. Yeah, not fussed on the books or the movies) or Rock Of Ages.

We finished our ghost problem and headed towards San Francisco, where people are having nightmares. Not unusual in another case but a hundred Stanford students have been having nightmares bad enough to go to a councillor and ten have been hospitalised because of the mental trauma the dreams caused. Not normal.

That was two days ago. Two days of Dean Winchester being on the edge. The man had something bugging him and wasn't offering to share, not that I would expect him to. It's eerie to think I have only known the guy for four days. I feel like we're old friends. I have started to become familiar with Dean's contradictory personality in the short time I have known him. He can be sweet but that pales in comparison with the amount of times I have wanted to bash his head in with a machete. Our first hunt was definitely started our partnership with a bang.

** TWO DAYS AGO **

We came to a halt in front of one of the most beautiful cars I have ever laid eyes on. She was in perfect condition with a glossy pitch black coat of paint that glistened in the afternoon sun. I could tell the car was an old style even with my lack of experience with cars. Anyone could see this car was well looked after. I gave a low whistle in admiration while running my hand along her smooth metal.

Suddenly, a larger hand smacked my hand away.

"Hey! Ouch, Dean! That hurt. Why do that?" I screeched, glaring at him while cradling my red, stinging hand.

"You screw up my car Beautiful, I'll kill you." His face is deadly serious.

I chuckle, "Like to see you try but I was just making goo goo eyes at the paint job." To emphasis my point I go back to staring at her. "What car is it anyways?"

"'67 Chevy Impala. Be careful with her." It seems that Dean is taken.

"Should I be worried, the love of your life is already interfering with our newly found friendship," I smile, enjoying teasing him. I get into the passenger seat beside Dean. "So, what are we doing 'bout this ghost?"

He looks at me. "What have you found out?" He questions.

"The basic stuff: Travis Richard is victim. Murdered age 15. Sister, Alison Richard, went missing earlier this year. He had close relationship with her apparently," I give him a meaningful look which he returns, "He was also the last one to see her. Average student. Not many friends. Then the strange stuff I learnt interviewing, his friends said he was very possessive and protective of his sister and just before his death, he kept telling anyone close to him that she was visiting him. I quote from his friend, 'He would stare into empty spaces for long periods of time then go really white in the face before running off. He also use to talk about Alison a lot, he was really torn up about her disappearance. Even kept the locket he gave her around his neck always. His eyes would flicker around a room when he walked into one. The weirdest part was he would tell me how he could feel Alison and how she was following him.' It sounds to me like we have a ghost but I was caught when I went to check out the house."

"Nice work, Captain obvious. Now all we have to do is search the house as I didn't get a chance to look at it either because I got caught trying to sneak into the house."

"How did you get caught?"

"Luckily at the time I decided to go do a sweep of the house, it was being searched by four cops."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "You didn't notice them."

He looked embarrassed, "They were being quiet and shit. Not to mention, they were on the other side of the house."

'Really?' My face asked. He just shrugged, turning away. The silence that followed was awkward. This lasted a few minutes before Dean brought out a box of cassettes.

"What are these? Cassettes? What period are you from?"

"Shut your pie hole Beautiful, driver picks the music and what the said music is played on." I grabbed one out if the box. It was labelled 'Led Zeppelin' in messy, quick script. "At least you have decent taste in music."

"Classic rock fan? I would peg you more for a Beyoncé and that type of crap." You can tell Dean is passionate about his music.

"Nah, use to like Debussy and that stuff but rock is more fitting."

Def Leppard, Rock Of Ages rung through the car as it blast from the radio. I sang along loudly and out of pitch.

"Rise up, gather round, rock this place to the ground

Burn it up, let's go for broke, watch the night go up in smoke."

Dean joins me in finishing the rest of the song,

"Rock on! Rock on!

Drive me crazier

No serenade, no fire brigade, just pyromania"

His voice is pitchy and we were out of tune but this is really some of the most fun I have had since... a long, long time. He looks at me smiling.

"If you hadn't agreed with my music choice, you wouldn't have last a week with me, Beautiful."

"See, its fate. We are destined to be friends. The same music tastes is the most important factor in any relationship."

The diner we stopped at was had a tacky '50s theme but sold decent food so it was perfect. I ordered safe with a burger while Dean was tapping his foot as he waited for his pie.

"Why are you getting so excited about pie?" Pie wasn't a favourite of mine. I would rather a burger or hotdog any day over it. Dean face quickly scrunched up into an offended look and held a hand to his chest, "Pie is the meal of all meals. You can't top pie."

"What on earth are you on? The burger is WAY better than stupid pie." "Actually pie is better because you can put basically anything in a pie and it will taste great, unlike burgers. Pie can also be breakfast, lunch and dinner." "Too bad pie will make you fat making you slow making you get killed by a demon. Burgers have vegetables making me the better hunter." This comment led to the fight escalating fast and both of us was yelling to prove their food was superior. Though no one technically won the fight, the classic yet timelessly delicious burger was still the better than the pie. When the meals finally arrived, Dean launched to eating his pie, filling his mouth and moaning. I took a huge bite of my burger, moaning like I was in the middle of an orgasm. It was on then, both of us got questioning stares as we tried to outdo each other; the moans louder and more sultry every round. The sky eventually fell dark. We hit the road.

The Impala rolled past the abandoned house smoothly. Dean and I scoped the area for cops. Spotting none, we climbed out of the car sufficiently armed. Back to back, we entered the house. Inside was decrepit. The roof was collapsing in on itself; floorboards were eaten away at revealing the ground below. We walked slowly, trying to make the least amount of noise possible.

That was until a crash was heard as I ran into a corner of a table hitting my leg sharply. "Mother fucker. Shit. That hurt," I cried before I whacked a hand across my own mouth. I bit my knuckles. Crap that hit a nerve. Dean was looking at me concerned. I ignored Dean; we had a job to do. Limping forward, I moved my head in a hurry gesture to Dean. He follows carefully behind me, watching my back. I moved into the main room in the house where Travis was killed. The frame work for the house was clearly visible and the room was filled with the stench of rotting human flesh.

The white sheet was vivid against the dark panelling. They hadn't moved the body yet which worked in the favour of the two hunters like us. Dean grabbed the sheet throwing it off to the side. Both our eyes then lingered on the gruesome, mangled body of the boy, stunned. The corpse was a horrifying sight. No wonder they didn't release pictures. He must have been tortured for hours. Words crisscrossed all exposed skin. Murderer, creep, freak, stalker, brother, incest... All words gorged into his flesh. Some carved deeply, some barely breaking the skin. I can imagine the burning pain he would of experienced before loosing too much blood and dying. The ghost is creative when it comes to vengeance. Dean lurches forward and grabs me as a girl with resemblance to the corpse in front of me comes through the wall parallel to us.

I quickly grab my gun, drawing confidence from it. I look to my right, Dean's in a similar position. I lock my eyes on her, observing. Travis' twin looks very much like him. Long dark hair flows past her waist, shadowing her pure black eyes. She moves soundlessly, a low male voice comes from her blue lips echoing in the empty space, "Ali, come on. A little further. Here is perfect. Don't you love this house; it's something straight out of a horror film." The next voice is higher pitched, "Travis, why did you drag me all the way out here? I don't like it here, I've told you that. It's creepy." Alison's ghost re-enacted the experience.

Travis' voice replies, "I didn't want any one interrupting or overheating us."

"Why?"

"Because I need to tell you how I feel about you."

"Travis!" Panic saturated Alison's voice, "You're scaring me. Please don't..." The air around us gets colder causing me to shiver and move closer to Dean.

"Don't worry Ali." Travis' voice cooed softly, "I love you. You love me too. We can be together." His voice is soft and loving, not what you would expect from a brother to a sister.

Sobs were now coming from Alison's ghost's lips. Incoherent whispers and pleas could be heard in between the cries, "No... Brother... Unnatural... Brother... Stop... Please... Stop... Never... No... No... NO!" Her terrified wimpers started then as her brother realised she was rejecting him.

"You led me on with the flirting; the beauty of your eyes, walking around the house in a towel and the tenderness and acceptance you treated me with. Then you reject me. You filthy slut. I will make you regret this. Make you see what could have happened if loved me." His voice had a menacing tone to it. His anger is uncontrollable in his voice.

The real screams started then, Alison's ghost screamed in agony and pure fear before a gurgle finished off the scene. Her story told Alison disappeared. I moved closer to Dean who seemed just as shaken as me. I can't believe I even referred to him as the victim. The sick, unstable bastard.

Dean snapped out of it first. "That son of a bitch." I couldn't help but let out the air I'd been holding in a loud huff at that. Trust Dean.

"The locket," I stated. Dean ripped the locket from around Travis's neck, drenching it with gasoline. I took a lighter from my pocket and set it aflame. It slowly smouldered into ashes.

I licked my chapped lips, "We have to burn down this house." We drenched the house in gasoline before rigging it blow up. Once a safe distance away, the house exploded. We left Pearson Street, leaving only ashes as our tracks.

We stopped at an affordable motel. We hadn't talked about the hunt instead deciding to sleep on it. We settled in opposite beds facing each other. Nightmares plagued me that night.

The next morning was as equally as silent as we scanned the Internet on my computer for the next hunt until we were back in the Impala heading to San Francisco.

"That was fucked up." Dean doesn't skip around anything does he?

"Tell me about it. What a psycho! I mean he deserved to die! Who does that to a girl? To their own sister! Fucking creep! I hope he rots in the hottest part of Hell." I ranted, letting out all my anger at the boy and sadness for Alison. Though she killed him, it seemed more than fair with what he put her through. I ran a hand through my mahogany hair in frustration. Heat pooled in my cheeks cooled as I regained my posture. Looking over the hunt, I realise how quickly over we got the job done. Together we were able to wrap up the hunt in twenty four hours. That was a quick hunt. "That hunt was a success, didn't wasn't?"

"Sure was, Beautiful."

"That means I'm sticking around for a while so you are going to have to," I poke teasingly at his arm. "Deal with me."

"That is fine with me," he agrees happily.

"I wasn't asking for your approval."

"Maybe not but you want it." A few moments silence before I break it, "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I like having you 'round..."

"You too, Beautiful. Only not when you're pissed, it's like you're like some crazy cat lady." I want to flip him in a way that will dislocate both the shoulder and elbow. I rein this desire in, settling on smacking him on the back of his head hard.

"But with how annoying you are, I'm not sure how long that's going to last."

"Pot meet kettle."

True. I nod to myself, I can be just as annoying as he is but I pretend to be offended. He then starts to tease me, I take everything in stride while dramatising my reactions. I eventually struggle to keep my eyes open, so I roll over to sleep after sending Dean one last sleepy smile. Just before I fall into the darkness my last thought is I predict lots fights in the near future...

A/N: Please review. Any comments are awesome. There wasn't action in this chapter but instead it was really creepy. I'm leaving it to you to come up with what you want about Alison's death. So, as you can see I'm making this into a multiple chapter story, which will eventually go into the supernatural series after I develop Dean's and Bella's relationship.

Faithindestiny xx


	3. Standford Nightmares: Part 1

Hey guys! Sorry this is so late. I had a lot to do, apparently being in year 10 (sophomore for Americans) you get truckloads of homework. Thanks everyone who's reviewed or favourited me or my story; you guys have to deserve ice-cream. Anyway on with the story...

Stanford Nightmares: Part 1

We were lucky I was able to hack computers because I quickly discovered that Dean did neither the skills nor the patience to. For the few hours we have been in Palo Alto, we have been getting our basic information from the internet in our motel on the outskirts of Stanford's campus, meaning Dean has done nothing but watch crappy soaps until he got bored of them. Now he's decided to make my life a living hell to make me just as miserable as him. As he sits beside me, his leg shakes impatiently. I ignore it like have for the last half an hour even though it is wobbling the cheap, wooden table my laptop is seated upon. I completely zone him out, only focusing on hacking into the records on patients in the psychiatric ward. Suddenly, it starts. I grit my teeth together. It gets louder. My nails make crescents in skin, so close to drawing blood. Stubbornly, I stare at the computer screen. It's now mimicking the melody of Eye of the Tiger. I take a deep, DEEP breath, holding it in for as long as I can then releasing it slowly out my nose. It's stopped. I sigh happily while a miniature smile upturns my lips. Silence is blissful. CLICK. I flinch and my fingers freeze on the keys. I lift my head, smile gone. Dean's thumb has the button on the pen pressed down. I stare at it and he follows my gaze. 'I dare you' is my unspoken statement between us as well as the promise of violence. We both look down at Dean's thumb. It twitches but doesn't move off the button. My eyes narrow sparing a glance at Dean's face. His eyebrow raises and he looks at me as he very deliberately moves his finger off the button. CLICK.

Silence. "We need a break," my voice is tight. "I saw a bar near here."

"Booze and girls; there is my heaven." He is already walking out the door.

I groan running in front of him, "Before we go to this bar, there are a few rules we have to establish. "Número uno," I hold my finger up, "If we get lucky," a slight blush has risen to my face, "then under no circumstances is she to be brought to where we are staying. Secondly, not in the Impala, especially in my seat," Dean grumbles under his breath, "Thirdly, I am not to be used in any schemes, you have to get girls. I am not your wingman." This makes his face drop as all his plans are flushed down the toilet but he nods. I step to the side letting him past.

We drive to the bar though it's close enough to walk. I go to get out of the Impala but Dean grabs my wrist pulling me to face him. "Yes Dean?"

He looks me in the eyes seriously, "My rules; don't hang around me in there, it will scare off some of the ladies, text each other or tell each where we are going and if anything happens we contact each other." "Sits well with me," I say getting out of the car, almost tripping in the darkness, and walking into "The lush lounge." I scan the place. Not too bad. The decor has an organic, natural theme with dark wooden furniture and brick walls. Today is Saturday as clearly displayed by the amount of people dressed up and lazing along the bar. I found an empty seat up beside two women on the bar and just let myself relax. The Rock that is gently playing in the background behind all the talking and laughing, is like a lullaby to my exhausted soul. I settled further into my stool. I could see myself as a regular visitor to this place. My thoughts are cut off by the bar tender. "What do you want, Sugar?" She asks cheerfully.

"Water please. I don't drink."

She smiles, "Coming right up." She leaves to fetch my drink. A few minutes later, I sip my water searching for Dean when my phone vibrates.

'Scored with a hot blonde. Room 224. Don't wait up.

-Dean'

The message reads. I roll my eyes. That was fast. I thought it would take at least half an hour. I grope the table searching for my water, only for my hand to hit the side of the cup spilling it all over the woman next to me. I launch up, my cheeks bright red as I fumble for serviettes. "I am so sorry. This so embarrassing. I am so clumsy. I am really sorry about this. It's only though so lucky but really I am so sorry," I babbled as I handed her the serviettes. The woman turned to me, chuckling. She wiped away my comments with a swipe of her hand, "Don't worry about it. This dress is old. I really don't mind, in fact I think you just gave me an excuse to buy myself a new dress."

I shook my head with fervour, "No, at least let me buy you a drink. I owe you." She glances down at her dress, dabbing at the water soaking the front of it, "There is really no need at all and I owe you for the new dress I am going to buy."

"No, I insist. Please at least let me buy you a drink," I try to compromise. "If it will make you feel better, I drink orange cosmos." "It does. I will buy that drink for you right now..." I leave the question open. The embarrassment and guilt lessens tremendously as I order her a drink. "Jessica Moore. Call me Jess. Nice to meet you..."

I grin at her, "Sara Acker. Pleased to meet you too."

"Are you waiting for anyone Sara?" Jess asks me out of the blue. "What? Oh, no. I just came down here for a drink," I reply surprised.

"Well if you're not waiting on anyone then do you want to join my friends and me for a few drinks?" Jess asks kindly. I shrug. Why not? Jess seems nice enough and while I have to back and finish getting those hospital records, it isn't the appealing offer anymore. We walk side by side to an empty table in the corner.

"Where are your friends?" I muse out a loud as I sit in the seat opposite to her. "They're coming in a minute. But before they get here," she leans closer to me, beckoning for me to lean in with her, "The reason for this little outing is because one of my friends has been suffering with really bad nightmares and this is supposed to take her mind off them so please don't mention anything to do with dreams and stuff like that." Jess's eyebrows have drawn together in concern. "That's horrible. I promise to try my best not to upset her." I vow. This is a break from hunting so the information can wait for another day. Slowly Jess's friends trickle into the bar like she said. She has a lot of friends. I meet so many new people, it's not funny. The worst part about the night is definitely the introductions and names. How many times I have had the same conversation, "Oh, Hello. Who are you?" The way this is said is mostly depends on the gender. Most of the men say it in a way that can only be described as appreciative to accompany the ogle at my breasts while most women say it in the nice-almost-to-the-point-of-bitchy way had only women can master. I then nicely reply, "Hello, I'm Sara. Jess invited me." They reply disinterested. "I'm... insert name here. Well, nice to meet you." This line is usually the women, who then strut off to another friend while men try to stay to flirt and try their luck. This type of outing really shows how much of an endangered species people like Jess is.

Even the men get bored of me eventually when they realise I'm not putting out, so I hang on the edge of the group listening to surrounding conversations and occasionally inserting a comment.

That's when I notice I have to go to the bathroom. I go do my business and fling open the door to leave. The bang is loud and painful. I close my eyes. Really, Bella, again. I hit myself on the forehead. Suddenly I realise, I just hit someone. Quickly, I shut the door. The guy in front of me is huge, like giant huge. He is at least 6'4 and towers over me but seeing his face all I can think is BFG. His face is boyish and sweet. The long hairstyle covering his face only adds to his sweetness. He is so cute; sorta like a puppy. I can only imagine his puppy dog eyes; they must be out of this world with their adorableness. I shook my head trying to get of the daze his cuteness has put me into. Wait. The bang. My eyes flicker to his face and I can now see the blood dripping from his nose.

"I am the most accident prone person in the world. Seriously, twice in one day! I am so sorry." He just smiles instead while winching because I know from experience that smiling with a hurt nose is painful. "Don't stress. It's fine. It could have happened to anybody." Wow! Two genuinely really nice people in one day; must be a record.

"No really, at least let me have a look at it; I have medical training." I say as I lead over to a chair and lightly push him into it. The whole situation has a strong sense of deja vu. I examine his nose closely as he holds serviettes to it to staunch the light bleeding. I poke it with force. "Hey! Do you really know what you're doing because most people don't poke the injury!" "well you aren't on the floor in pain right now, your nose isn't crooked from what I can tell, minor bruising and no swelling, I can say you probably haven't broken your nose but put this on it for the next hour to numb the pain," I state handing him the ice I received off the waitress.

"What if I had have broken my nose and you poked it?"

"You would be crying because of the pain right now." He looks relieved.

"Thank you for your help Dr..." I play along introducing myself, "Sara Acker, proud owner of a MBBS, Mr." He laughs, "Sam Winchester." What? I must have heard that wrong, "Sorry, um, excuse me. What did you say your name was again?" He smiles again. He must know how cute his smile is and uses it to his advantage by smiling all the time. "Sam. Sam Winchester." I heard it right? This guy has the same surname as Dean! How strange... Unless they're related. I run my eyes over his face again. I can't really see Dean in him. Where Dean is green eyed, Sam is brown. Dean's a dirty blonde while Sam's is definitely a brunette. Their facial features and body structures are also different. No, I wouldn't say they were even cousins. Inspection done, I notice Sam is squirming uncomfortably. I blush and sheepishly smile, "Sorry, you reminded me of someone." He nods in understanding before beaming, "Good, it would have been awkward to have to through the I-have-a-girlfriend speech." "Yeah, it's awkward to listen to them."

"Do you live around here? I haven't seen you before and my girlfriend knows pretty much everyone." I shake my head. "No, I'm a psychologist. I specialise in the subconscious including dreams so I have come to study the recent nightmare problems."

"That's brilliant. It would really help my girlfriend if you helped her friend, Nadia. Nadia is suffering from nightmares so badly it's impacting on her health. Maybe you could see her or talk to her. She's the girl in the blue dress." I follow his finger to a mess of a girl. I, myself, am naturally skinny but there is nothing natural or pretty about how her bones stick out from skin which is as pale as a ghost's, almost translucent. Dark shadows colour the area around her eyes and her eyelids are drooped and puffy. Her red hair is a mess of tangles on her head. She resembles Eleanor Lovett without the homicidal tendencies. I shudder at the thought of looking like that.

"Yeah, it's that bad. Jess is doing everything she can for her but she's not getting any better." His eyebrows have drawn together into an expression I last saw on Jess. Oh... "Jess is your girlfriend," I state confidently. "Yeah," he confirms surprised, "How did you know?" "The way you spoke about Jess and your girlfriend was in the same loving way, you just replicated her expression and I have met her- you should ask her about that- and it makes sense. You're both nice people. She may have also told me about her friend." I rush out the last line smirking, "So back on topic, I would be happy to see Nadia. Just give me your number and you can arrange the meeting." I hand him my phone. He types in his number using his spare hand. "Nice meeting you again Sam. Tell Jess thanks for inviting me to hang out with her."

"Bye Sara," he yells after me. I wave over my shoulder as I exit the bar to walk to the motel.

'Leaving bar now. Going back to the motel. Hope ur having fun;)

-Bella'

I have some hacking to finish.

AN: So what did you think? Good? not so good? What about Sam and Dean? I want to know your opinion! So review! Also I need some ideas for what happens after the Stanford hunt is done. What do you want Bella and Dean to do/hunt? What little moments would you like to see between them? I write this story as I go with only a general gist of where I want it to go so any suggestion would definitely be considered!

Faithindestiny xxx


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